Drag

||: Drag drag. Drag drag.
''Lift your feet''
''Why?''
''Because I ask you to''
''Okey''
Klomp klomp. Klomp klomp. Drag drag. Drag drag. :|| (repeat indefinitely)

I understand now mom and dad. I understand how increadibly anoying it was. I am sorry.

Diary

I think a lot about memories these days.
My childhood memories are very fragmented and I would like that my sons have a better record of their early years than I do. I have only a few photographs of myself back then, and that will not be the case for them. I also try to write stuff down, but I have never been very good at keeping a diary myself (K is better when it comes to that). But I have tried. I know that I did keep some kind of journal on my C64 back in the days. And even if I have always tried to bring all my files when I migrate to a new system I think they have gotten lost some time long ago, even before the double-system crash I experienced some years ago, when both my laptop and stationary machine decided to give up simultaneously (so much for that back-up system). But maybe, just maybe, there might be a copy on a 3.5' floppy down in the cellar. I wounder if I can get the Amiga to work.

(Funny that Tage just came with a tape cassette and asked what the heck that was.)

Tage

Walking home the other day Tage asked me what would happen if you pushed on the man and not on the button on the 'I want to cross the road, please change the lights'-apparatus. 'Does it get green immediately then?'

A long time ago he noticed that you can push on the text at the bottom (on the one that opens our front door at least) to get it to work, so who knows? Maybe he is right. But I can not test it, because then I would have lived a long time - pressing the button (as instructed) and waiting (as a fool), instead of pressing the man and going directly. Do you dare to push the man?

I am shattered

Ok, a classic post.

The frequency of this here blog has gone down. I believe that it might be due to that I am trying to be active here, on facebook, on twitter and on g+ all at the same time. My short witty remarks and observations of my surrounding need a home, and I choose you my dear blog.